


Some Wishes

by lesyeuxverts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: EWE, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 08:51:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesyeuxverts/pseuds/lesyeuxverts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some wishes do come true...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Wishes

Summer was the best season – Harry was sure of it. Autumn was full of preparations for the Ball, spring was taken up with talking about it after it had happened, and winter itself was consumed by it. The bloody Ministry Yule Ball.  
  
Some wishes did come true, at least. He'd broken things off with Ginny, so this year, he wasn't forced to listen to her deciding on a robe or to accompany her to endless fittings. None of the prattle and bustle of the Ministry Yule Ball had plagued Harry this year.  
  
He dutifully noted down on the time slip that he was available to work on Christmas Eve, but to no avail. Kingsley clapped him on the shoulder and told him to go – to dance, to _enjoy himself,_ as if it was bloody possible to enjoy oneself at the Ministry Yule Ball.  
  
Harry ordered a new robe from Madam Malkin's and picked it up by owl – nothing simpler. He went to Diagon Alley before the Christmas shopping rush and picked up a hip flask, filling it with Firewhiskey and slipping it into his pocket. He was determined to make it through the Ball, one way or another.  
  
When the day came, Harry flattened his hair with the force of a spell, put on his dress robes, and marched over to the Ministry. He slunk into a corner of the ballroom and hid there, ducking behind a large potted fern whenever he saw Rita Skeeter or one of her cronies.  
  
A hand clapped him on the shoulder, and Harry spun around, almost dropping his flask.   
  
"Well, I had _heard_ that you didn't have a date for the Ball," Draco Malfoy said, drawling out each word and lingering on it. "I don't always _believe_ what I hear, and now I see I was right. Going to dance with Ogden, Potter?"  
  
Harry hunched away from him, drawing further back into the shadows. He hadn't seen Malfoy since last year's fiasco – the drunken kiss that made him break things off with Ginny. He hadn't been _avoiding_ Draco, exactly, but there were some things not covered by Gryffindor courage. "None of your business, Malfoy–"  
  
"Unless…" Draco said, coming closer to Harry. In the shadow of the fern, the musky smell of the potted earth and the green of its leaves, he smelled like spices. Harry smelled the champagne on his breath. "Unless you would prefer to dance with me?"  
  
He held out his hand and Harry, without thinking, took it. Just as he remembered, Draco had cold hands – cold hands, warm heart, or so the saying went.   
  
Draco smiled and squeezed his fingers. "I've always wanted a boyfriend for the Ministry Yule Ball," he said. "Someone to dance with … to make the whole thing less tedious and unbearable."  
  
Following him onto the dance floor, Harry nodded. "Yeah. Me too."  
  
Draco pulled him close and led him around the floor in a waltz. "Some wishes do come true," he said. "Happy Christmas, Harry."


End file.
